Wednesday, 27 January 2010

Over.

We all destroy something beautiful, some of us with more diligence and application than the rest.

Today it was the relationship. Tomorrow, who knows? He sort of sat there passively, looking, biting his lip, half-smiling. I want him to cry, to weep, to stop awkwardly making jokes, to beg me to reconsider. To tell me he loves me. I'm not sure why I'm crying - I ended it with all the casual cliches designed to minimally inflict pain upon the other. The cliche: We never see each other. My reason: I want you to love me, I want to lose myself in love with you and experience the most ineffable of experiences - a total annihalition of myself in love. I just wanted something more violent, more tangible, like rough kisses in the dark and bruised bones in the morning.

I know how you feel about wanting to violently be swept away with love and lust, I'm the same way. I have to see my boy everyday otherwise I feel unloved and if he is to tired for sex I feel as though he's called me fat and smacked me across the face. Its strange even though we all want to disappear into thin air, we always long for that one attachment to humanity.

I know how you feel about wanting to be violently swept away by love and lust, I'm the same way. If I dont see my bf everyday I feel unwanted and cry, and if he is ever to tired for sex I feel as though he has called me fat and slapped me across the face. Its strange the way we all want to disappear into thin air yet we all cling so dispairingly to a thread humanity. I will never understand this shit.

I know how you feel... some boys are nice. Some boys are not so nice. And it's clear which ones we both go for. But are they really what we want? Are they actually what we need?? I don't know. Until we find a bad nice boy. We're stuck.

But you just don't get bad nice boys! You get bad boys. And nice boys. And never the twain shall meet. Oh fuck. It's one or the other. You have to choose. And... I think we've already chosen.

I know I'm a bit late to comment, I'm just de-lurking to say that"I just wanted something more violent, more tangible, like rough kisses in the dark and bruised bones in the morning."is probaly the most raw and beautiful and poetically intense sentence I have ever read on the subject of romance; and that it also mirrors my own feelings on the matter perfectly.

I am in awe, thanks for putting those plain and perfect words to a desire I could not have voiced as accurately myself.

... and since I've made the de-lurking official and finally started a blog on here myself, I'm going to add that the above anon comment was me.Thanks again for such a gut-wrenchingly true and inspirational post.

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About Me

To those who know me, I laugh easily, tell them never to give up and mostly, just to love yourself. But then again those people don't know that most days I wish I could just fade away into nothing and let go. They're not you - the ones who get to see me at my ugliest, cruelest and violently honest. I guess that's why I try to compensate with photographs of flowers. Sort of tragic really.
And now I'm in recovery.
I don't weigh myself.
I don't purge.
I don't count calories.
It's fucking hard.
But I want to get better. And this time forever.